“Go easy on him, babe. He did this for you, he didn’t have to.” She says in my ear, I nod against her shoulder agreeing. He didn’t have to do this for me, but he did, even after I was a dick to him.
“I will,” I say against her shoulder, “now go back home to that sweet baby and that husband of yours.” I let her go reluctantly.
“Have fun, babe.” Blake says.
“Call us okay?” Julie says.
“Fuck in every city, okay?” Maggie laughs.
“Will do.” I laugh and make my way toward the massive black tour bus. “I’ll see you guys in a few months. I’ll have some bitchin’ material for our next album.” They all nod, and I take the steps to the top, the doors close behind me and the adventure begins.
“Bristol!” Marv exclaims, he’s the head of security for the band and one of the sweetest men I’ve ever met.
“Marv!” I squeal, moving towards him to give him a hug.
“You look a lot better than the last time I saw ya.” He says, giving me a once over. His heavy Boston accent is one of my favorite things about him.
“I feel a lot better than the last time I saw you.” I pat his shoulder appreciatively.
“Good good, don’t let any of these assholes treat ya bad, ‘kay? They’ll have me to deal with.” He cracks his knuckles animatedly, and I laugh out loud with a nod.
“Hey Marv, when was the last time you saw Bristol?” Rhyit says from the recliner he’s sitting in. He spins the chair like a villain in a bad action movie. He narrows his eyes at the two of us with suspicion. I didn’t even know he was sitting there, but his question makes all the blood drain from my face.
“Oh, it’s been a while.” Marv says, looking at me. I mouth a quick “thank you” with my back to Rhyit. Marv shoots me a wink and starts walking down the aisle towards the bunks, passing Rhyit’s spot on the chair. I drop my purse and leather jacket on the bottom bunk and head for the bathroom. I need to get this makeup off my face and sweats on as soon as possible.
The bus starts rolling as soon as I’m seated in the bathroom. The toilet lid is closed underneath me as I take the washcloth to my face, the cool water and soap feel amazing against my overheated skin. When most of the makeup is off my face, I stand and look at myself in the mirror.
“What are you doing here, Bristol?” I ask my reflection. The black of my mascara and eyeliner coats my under eyes, and I scrub the delicate skin to remove it. “Why are you chasing ghosts?” I sigh and set the washcloth down next to the sink. I open the door to the bathroom and walk out. Boston and Rhyit are sitting at the small table next to the kitchen area. Both boys have a beer in their hand, and it looks like they might be writing, the notepad splayed out between them has chicken scratch and a wet circle from the beer bottle.
“Pistol, come help us.” Boston says, waving me over to the open seat next to Rhyit. The scene in front of me is so similar to all those nights together on the tour bus years ago. The four of us sitting around the table, drinking, smoking, and writing until the wee hours of the morning. While the scene looks similar, the feelings are different, there’s loss and animosity sitting between us, betrayal and hurt hanging above us.
I take a seat at the little white table, and Rhyit scoots over to make room for me.
“What are you working on?” I ask, pulling the paper pad towards me. The title gives me pause, “Last Goodbye.” It’s the song he sang at the funeral, the one that only had a few verses but was hauntingly beautiful.
“The paps got a video of me singing this, and Larkin wants us to finish it.” Rhyit says through gritted teeth. Annoyance radiates off of him, but I can’t help a petty part of me from seeping out.
“Gee, it’s gonna be pretty hard for you to share something so personal with the world every night, isn’t it?” I say sarcastically, my mouth twisting to hold back what I really want to say.
“That song wasn’t meant for the world, it was meant for Alex.” He says, annoyance replaced with anger. “I don’t want to sing it every night. I don’t want to replay that feeling every day for however long Larkin wants us to play it.”
“Hypocrite.” I murmur under my breath. Boston’s eyes widen across from me, and I could kick myself for saying it outloud.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” Boston asks. His eyes pinging between Rhyit and I.
“Nothing.” Rhyit says, trying to end the conversation but fuck that. Does Boston not know? Does he think I left because I wanted to?
“Hey Bos, what do you know about Pistol?” I ask, turning my head slowly to Rhyit just in time to see his jaw lock and fire to light up his face.
“You and Rhy wrote it.” Boston replies. “Damn good song.” He nods. “But you left before we could play it live, it’s so fucking cool, Bristol. People get their lighters out and wave them above their head, girls cry.” He smiles broadly.
“That’s right, you left.” Rhyit spews behind clenched teeth and angrily gets up and moves away from the table, stomping to the back room. I hear the door slam shut, and I can’t help myself, I have to follow him. He didn’t tell the guys the truth about why I left and I’m furious. My blood boils as I follow him to the back room. I don’t even stop to knock. With my full momentum, I turn the knob and push the door open.
He stands at the edge of the bed with his head down, his dark hair falling over his features. I take a step forward, and then another until I’m standing directly in front of him. His green eyes meet mine, and it’s a good thing neither one of us has laser vision because we’d burn this whole place to the ground.
“You’re right, I left,” My lip shakes as I stare up at him. "I left because of several things. Not just one thing. We were amazing at first, then the drugs happened. I could push through that. Then the cheating.."
His face lifts up, lighting up in anger. "I told you I never cheated."